Say Yes
by PiscesChikk
Summary: Joss turns to an old friend and previous number to avoid the growing tension between her and John. What happens when John, who is ready to address his emotions head on, doesn't take this decision well?
1. Chapter 1

A/N First of all Happy New Year to all my readers and reviewers. I hope that 2015 is a much better year than 2014 was to all of you. :)

This story was based off of an idea I had for a long time, but was afraid to tackle and also based on a partial prompt someone else threw out to me. This fic might be a little uncomfortable for some since it involves some M Rated times with Carter and someone who is (gasp) not Reese. :p But at the end of it all, it's still a Careese story. For some, you might be able to read it. For others I know you might not. And that's okay. I sort of wanted to push my writing a little and see what I could come up with if I went this route. For those of you who do read it, I hope that you enjoy it and I'd love to hear your feedback.

Thanks.

(This fic is un beta-ed, so forgive any mistakes.

~~Disclaimer - I don't own Person of Interest or any of its characters.

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><p>Carter closed her eyes, inhaled and exhaled deeply. It was eight o'clock in the morning. It was her day off, and here she was in the passenger seat of one of Finch's cars sitting next to Reese. He was on a stakeout. A fruitless one at that because there'd been no sign of the number or suspect since they'd gotten there almost an hour ago. And of course, as usual, Reese just wanted her to tag along. She felt tired, she felt cranky, and she felt horny. She wasn't sure if it was PMS or the fact that she hadn't had sex with anyone during the eight months since Cal died, but she had been feeling especially amorous for the last week. Despite her efforts to satisfy her urges they just wouldn't go away.<p>

"What's the matter, Carter?" Reese asked.

She hated the way he could sense something was wrong when it came to her. Hated that it felt like he could read her mind sometimes. Especially lately. It was as if their connection had become stronger. She couldn't explain it. Nor did she want to. If she thought about it too much she might not like the answers. But lately she had been sensing that he had started to want more than whatever it was between them. He wanted something else. Something that she wasn't ready to give right now. Feelings for him aside, she just wanted to remain focused on HR. Finding out the boss' identity was her top priority; everything else was secondary.

Still, her hormones were raging in the most urgent way.

"Nothing's wrong, John. I'm just spending my day off here with you, instead of enjoying it at home."

"You sure home is where you want to be and not somewhere else continuing your off-the-books pursuit of HR?"

She didn't respond. He knew her too well. She swore silently, flicked her tongue across her lips and swallowed. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him looking at her.

"I know what you've been up to. _We've_ known for quite some time, actually," he said, referring to Finch.

"I guess I just have to live with the fact that you're gonna follow me around and listen in on my conversations for the rest of my life, huh?" Carter shrugged, huffing.

She hadn't meant to sound so harsh, answer him so shortly, and she wished she could've taken it back when a silence hung between them.

"I'm getting too close. That's what you really want to say, isn't it?"

She finally turned to look at him, wondering why he chose this moment to verbalize what he'd been really thinking. It only pushed the tension that had started to fester between them to an uncomfortable level.

"Maybe. Maybe it's not something I might be ready for; you being that close. Not yet," she admitted.

"But it's something you might be ready for…eventually?"

She wanted to say yes. She wanted to tell him to give her some time, but thankfully a phone call from Finch interrupted, and though Reese went back to discussing the case, he didn't miss her relieved expression at the change of subject. When he dropped her off at her place two hours later he hadn't brought it up again.

She dropped her house keys on the table by the door and plopped down onto the sofa. A shower and an afternoon in bed would do her a world of good. She was glad at least that she had the house to herself and could spend the day in peace before Taylor got home. She was about to head to her room when her cell phone rang. She grabbed it out of her pocket and stopped mid step when she saw the caller ID. It was Ian Murphy. She hadn't heard from him in months.

"Carter," she answered.

"Hello, Joss." His voice sounded the same - deep, playful, and sweet.

"Ian. It's been a long time." She walked into her bedroom, smiled as she sat down on her bed. "How've you been?"

"Well it's been an interesting couple of months. Been getting to know my son, spending time with him."

"How is Alex doing?"

"Oh, he's great. It's been an adjustment for the both of us. Mr. Wellington isn't too happy that we've gotten closer. But at least he hasn't stood in the way."

"Good. I'm glad to hear that."

"I promised to call you once the dust settled. I really did enjoy the time we spent together, and I'd like to take you out for that drink."

Even though she had to keep her bag and gun close during their last date, she had to admit after finding out he wasn't a serial killer she actually liked the guy. It had been a while since she'd been out. The only time she had been for drinks during the last couple weeks was when she hung out with Reese. The two of them might be a little more than friends, but she couldn't exactly call those dates, not when he occasionally _walked_ Zoe Morgan home.

"Sure, Ian. I'd love to."

"How bout tonight? If you're free that is."

"As it turns out, I most definitely am."

"Great. How does seven sound?"

"Seven sounds fine."

* * *

><p>"And just where are you going dressed up like that?" Carter's dark fuchsia lips curved into a smile and she turned away from admiring herself in the mirror for a moment to stare at her son.<p>

"I have a date," she answered, and checked out her reflection again.

She ran her fingers through the curls in her hair, tucked some loose strands behind her ear and spun round to take a look at her dress in the back. The low cut neckline offered a nice view of her cleavage, and the back was also similarly cut low. The sleeveless dress was body hugging to say the least, the hemline right above her knees, and the deep wine colour was a rich contrast to her skin.

"A date with whom?" he asked, leaning on the door jamb.

"Nobody you know," she said, giggling, and put a black jeweled cuff over her wrist. She had on her five inch black booties and picked up her clutch from the bed. She walked over to the door where Taylor eyed her from head to toe. It had been a while since he'd seen her dressed up like this. There were probably about a billion questions he wanted to ask, and she was sure they would come later. But for now, she had to leave or she'd be late.

"Listen Taylor, baby. Don't wait up for me," she said, kissing his cheek and smearing lipstick all over it. She walked downstairs while he followed. "And don't get into any trouble while I'm gone."

"_You_ don't get into any trouble," he muttered behind her. "Where you going with that dress?"

"Bye, baby."

She laughed as she hailed a cab when she got outside. Trouble was exactly what she planned on getting into.

* * *

><p>"Joss, you look amazing."<p>

"Thank you, Ian."

The smile on his face and the lingering look he gave her when they met outside the restaurant made her feel warm all over. As did the kiss he planted near her ear. He looked good himself, dressed in a dark suit and gray shirt underneath. He smelled good, and she didn't mind the hand he pressed to the small of her back as they were led to their table.

"This is nice. Although it's not as quiet as the last place you took me to," she teased, referring to his condo. "I wonder if the chef here can rival your skills. That sea bass was mouth watering."

"Well if he doesn't, I can always make it up to you. My skills are at your disposal."

"I like the sound of that," she said, smiling.

"I forgot how stunning you were. Those eyes, that smile, still beautiful even now. I didn't realize how much I missed it until right this minute." He leaned in close, the sound of his voice getting lower.

"Well I remember that you were quite the sweet talker. You always did know what to say. And you're not looking too bad yourself. "

"Now you're the one who's doing the sweet talking," he joked, while his cheeks turned red. She found it cute. "You've got something right there," he said, squinting.

"Where?" she asked, gazing downward.

He put a hand under her chin, raising it and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Just a little...hair out of place there." His fingers lingered near her neck, trailed down her arm and she felt herself quiver between her legs. Damn. It had _really_ been a long time.

"Perfect," he said, gazing at her.

"Would you like to order something to drink?"

They both straightened as their waitress re-appeared, effectively dousing the moment. Ian ordered them a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and grilled snapper for the main course. While they waited for their meal they had small talk about what they'd both been up to. He talked about Alex while he fed her crab cakes, calamari, and shrimp appetizers from his plate.

She realized that he hadn't had one bite of what he'd ordered, and she frowned.

"It's okay, Joss. I loved watching you swallow every bite."

She arched an eyebrow and forked a shrimp from her plate. "Your turn."

He opened his mouth while she fed it to him and ran her thumb across his mouth, gathering a few stray crumbs. She licked her thumb, enjoying the way he swallowed while she did it.

"Tastes good doesn't it?" she asked, reaching for another shrimp. Before she could eat it, he leaned over and planted a soft kiss on her mouth.

"Yeah, it does." He sat back in his chair, licking his lips while he looked back at her.

"Then have another."

A soft laugh rumbled in his throat, and he opened up as she fed him another shrimp. The tension between them was thick, and by the time the waitress came back with their food a steady fire was simmering just beneath the surface. But ever the gentleman, instead of letting it burn out of control, he switched the topic to Taylor and asked how he was doing.

She was really having a good time. He teased, he flirted, but he also just talked to her, and midway through the meal she was so relaxed she took her shoes off under the table.

She was glad she came. It was a nice change of pace from working with Laskey all day, a change from asking Taylor to clean up his room, and it was definitely a change of pace from working with John.

They were both surprised by the sound of a phone ringing, and she looked around the table.

"Your clutch is…ringing," Ian said.

"Oh, my phone. I'm sorry," she said, getting it. "I would have turned it off, but…my son."

She checked the caller ID and saw that it was John.

_What was wrong with this man? Did he have some internal radar that told him to look for her or call her at the most inopportune time?_

"Is everything okay?" Ian asked, noticing her frown.

"No. I mean yeah, Ian." She diverted the call, putting her phone on vibrate. "I let it go to voicemail. I can call them back. No further interruptions I promise," she said. "You have my undivided attention."

* * *

><p>An hour later the meal was done and Ian took care of the cheque. He helped her out of her chair, and they walked outside the restaurant together. It was just a little past ten. She wasn't yet ready to leave Ian's company and go back to the real world. They stood close to each other on the sidewalk, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.<p>

"The city's so beautiful tonight. So full of life. Sometimes I just love to look at the skyline, feel the energy, you know?"

"Turns out I know a great spot to watch the skyline from."

He turned to face her and pulled her close, so close she could feel his manhood pressing against her thigh. He twined his fingers through hers, the thumb sending strong currents through her as it moved over her hand.

"Where is it?" she asked.

"My balcony."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. The view is out of this world. I can take you there if you want."

He pressed a kiss to the side of her face again, and she felt goose bumps travelling down her skin.

"Just say yes." His breath tickled as he whispered it so close to her ear. "Say yes, Joss." Lips softly brushed over hers. "Say yes."

* * *

><p>On the cab ride over to his condo Carter enjoyed the feel of Ian's lips on her shoulder, his hand on her thigh, fingers ghosting close to her panties. She felt herself pooling between her legs as he kissed her. In his building's elevator he pinned her against a wall and kissed her hard while the lift climbed floors. She had a feeling once they got inside his place that the last thing they'd be looking at would be the Manhattan skyline.<p>

He fumbled for his keys in front of his door and when they got inside he barely had time to close it before she grabbed the lapels of his jacket. Now it was him being pressed against a hard surface. He groaned mildly, cupping the back of her neck and his other hand grabbed her ass. His lips were soft as she remembered from the brief kiss they had shared before. She ran her hands up and down his chest, feeling his nipples harden under his shirt. She nipped at his lips and he pulled her closer, grinding his hips against hers.

She heard him chuckle as he grazed her neck, and she smiled. In another moment he grabbed her by the waist and moved to press her into an adjacent wall. He moved her hands above her head, and her clutch dropped to the ground. It lay forgotten while he stared at her. With one hand still holding her in place, he moved his other, lower, tracing his fingers across her jaw, across her mouth, and down the exposed skin of her neckline.

He kissed her again. Slowly. Thoroughly, passionately and expertly. It was like he knew where to nip, when to bite, when to suck. He let her hands go and she wrapped her arms around his neck moving closer and closer while his hands roamed over her thighs. He was slowly sliding the hem of her dress upwards, and his hands felt oh so delicious.

There was the ringing again.

It took her a while to register it, but her phone was ringing. _Again_.

"Damn it," she said, looking down at her clutch on the ground. "Just ignore it," she said, and pressed her lips onto his once more. The ringer stopped, thankfully, and she undid the top button of his shirt. He slipped his jacket off, letting it drop to the floor when her phone started to ring once more.

He laughed softly when she looked down, put a palm to her cheek. "Just answer it. Maybe it's Taylor."

_If it was, he better have a leg or arm missing_, she thought.

"I'm sorry. Give me a minute."

"Let me get that for you," he said, bending down to pick up her clutch for her.

"Thanks," she said. "Taylor," she said, and walked toward the sliding door and out onto the balcony. "What is it, honey?"

Finally out of earshot of Ian who thankfully went to the kitchen area, she stood on the far end of the balcony to continue the conversation. It wasn't Taylor as she'd led Ian to believe; it was Reese.

"Taylor? Carter it's me."

"Yeah, I know."

"Why haven't you been answering your phone?"

"Huh? I was watching TV. Must have been too loud. I didn't hear it ring."

"What are you watching?"

"Uhh….TVLand. Just…._The Jeffersons_ reruns."

"Well let me in."

"What do you mean let you in?"

"I'm outside your front door. Let me in."

_Shit._

She let out a long sigh and closed her eyes. "This isn't a really good time right now, John." When she looked around she saw Ian about to open the sliding door holding two glasses of champagne in his hands.

"I'm sorry. I have to go. Okay? Bye."

What were the odds that John would find some way of locating her and track her down? What were the odds he'd do something crazy like that? It wasn't exactly unheard of. He'd done it before. Was he really at her house? More than likely he was and he had to know by now that she wasn't at home like she said she was. And if he decided to track her down, she knew this was a conversation that was far from over.

She took a glass from Ian, took a sip of the delicious champagne. But it was the last thing she wanted a taste of. She wanted to forget about John right now. She wanted to forget about their conversation earlier. Right now, she just wanted to feel. She led Ian back inside, slipped her shoes off and pulled him by the waist. His hands went around her as he steered her in the direction of his bedroom. He flipped a switch by the door and a lamp turned on, casting a golden glow in the room. The bed was massive, and a framed abstract painting of entwined figures stretched from the ground to the ceiling on the wall behind it. She walked backwards, pulling him toward her and they stumbled on the bed together.

She laid back as he undressed her, softly kissed her all over, licking one erect nipple after the next. She arched her back as he kissed her around her navel, under her belly button, then spread her knees apart to bury his face between her legs. She felt her juices spill out over his tongue, felt the faint beginnings of pleasure start to move through her body, but she wanted more. She pulled him upward, cupped his face in her hands to kiss him, then pushed him onto his back.

She roughly undid the buttons of his shirt, pulled it from his body before she removed his pants and underwear. She kissed him from his navel to his neck. He moaned, called her name, ran his hands down her bare back. She ground her hips against him, raised his hands above his head to pin him down and felt the hardness of his shaft as it slid over the moisture between her legs.

"You feel so good, Joss," Ian whispered in her ear. "Nice and wet." He kissed her softly, his tongue sliding over hers. She felt impatient with his restrained ardor, wanted him to take control, but he seemed to hesitate. When they were at his door and they'd first stumbled inside he was passionate, intense. Now he seemed tentative, timid, when she wanted to be taken.

"I'm gonna sit on your face," she said, pushing away from him, and she moved upward, positioning herself near his mouth. She ground her hips over his mouth, squeezing her breasts as his tongue moved over her opening again. The repeated motion brought her the sensation she was craving, and she started to moan loudly as ecstasy ripped through her. She teased her nipples, rolled them between her fingers as he sucked on her clit. She felt her essence start to drip down the inside of her thighs, felt her walls start to shake and she reached down to fist her hands in his hair as she finally started to come.

He rolled her over onto her back as she rode out her orgasm, kissing her nipples and grinning at how vocal she was.

"I'm sorry. Was I loud?" she asked.

He kissed her tenderly, and she put her arms around him.

"Well, luckily this is a corner apartment, and the one next door to me is currently unoccupied. There's no one to disturb," he said, and she hissed as she felt him rubbing the head of his cock over her pussy lips. "You can be as loud as you want."

"Hmm….you gonna make me scream?" she asked, as he reached into the top drawer by the bed. He pulled out a condom and opened it, rolling it over his shaft.

"I'm gonna do my best, Joss," he said, silkily as he slipped his cock inside her. He filled her up, and she put her legs around his back, pulling him further in. She twisted underneath him, making sure that he hit all the corners.

"Don't hold back, Ian," she said. She cupped his face, her fingernails digging into his cheeks. "Fuck me."

He got up and turned her over on her belly. He pushed one of her knees up and she gasped as he entered her from behind. He increased his speed a little, putting more strength behind his thrusts, and he crouched low over her, threading his fingers through hers.

"Harder, Ian. I want it harder."

He gave her what she wanted, and she rose to meet his thrusts, gripping his fingers tightly.

"_Harder. Harder. Harder_…." she moaned, and he started to slam into her with force.

"Yes, that's it…." Her voice shook. The moan that came from the back of her throat was deep, and her thighs started to shake.

"Ah, fuck, Joss." Ian's voice was guttural, ripe with the pleasure that he was feeling.

His strokes were deep, and she buried her face in the pillow as she reached her peak again. She went tense beneath him, and she lay still as he stroked her till he found release too. His body went rigid, and he let out a gruff sound as he came.

"I'm not the only loud one tonight," Carter said, and he laughed as he rolled to his side next to her.

"You take my breath away," he said, planting a kiss on her neck.

Carter looked at his heaving chest, and turned to him. She ran her fingers down his chest, curled them in the patch of hair at the base of his shaft.

"This time, I get to be on top."

* * *

><p>Carter stood in Ian's bathroom, brushing her hair and straightening her dress. He was still in bed, had slipped into a quick doze. His hair was a mess, the bed sheets tangled around his waist. She smirked, thinking of how he'd bucked his hips against her while she rode him. His fingers had dug into her skin when he came. He'd burrowed the back of his head into his pillow holding onto her for dear life as he found release.<p>

She switched the light off and walked across to the bed, bending over him. She rubbed her nose against the side of his face and he finally stirred. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her onto the bed with him.

"Can't you stay the night?" he asked, sleepily.

She shook her head as he buried his face in her neck. She put her arms around him as he pinned her beneath him. He kissed her softly, and she smiled, feeling him start to harden again.

"I can't, Ian. My son…"

He only groaned in response.

Truthfully, on occasion, she'd let Taylor spend nights at home alone when she had to pull an all-nighter at work. Though those times were few and far between, tonight would have been no different if she _really_ wanted to stay. But she didn't. He'd been fun, but that's all that it was, and there was something inside her that wouldn't allow her to fall asleep in his arms.

She just couldn't.

"I can't say that I'm happy to see you go."

She grinned. "I had a really good time too," she said, and he let her up, finally. She looked around for her things, straightened her dress again. "Where are my shoes?"

"They're in the living room with your clutch and your phone...on the ground somewhere."

He followed her out front, pushing her gently onto the sofa so that he could slip her shoes on for her. He boxed her in and kissed her, playfully nipping at her lips.

"I have to go," she said, laughing. "Come on, let me up."

"At least let me get dressed so I can walk you downstairs," he said, and handed her the cell phone.

She glanced at the screen seeing yet another missed call from John about a half hour after she last spoke to him. She frowned slightly.

"No, you don't have to. I'll be okay."

He put his arms around her waist, walking with her to the door, and when she put her hand on the doorknob, she felt him press a kiss to the back of her neck. She wondered if he was trying to turn this into more than it was.

"Goodnight, Ian." She turned around to kiss him on the cheek, but he went for her lips instead.

"Can we do this again?" he asked.

Just like John, he wanted something more from her. Something she didn't know she was ready to give.

"Say, yes."

She couldn't.

"Call me," she said, and opened the door.

She left before he could say anything else, and put her arms around herself once she was on the elevator. She glanced at her watch when she finally got outside. It was one o'clock in the morning, and she looked down the street to see if there were any cabs coming her way. The street was deserted, no one coming or going, but at the end of the block, she saw a tall, dark figure just as he turned in her direction. She opened her clutch as the person came closer, her hand on her Glock. She took it out, held it to her side, checking her surroundings, when the stranger's gait looked suddenly familiar.

She couldn't believe it.

She didn't want to believe it.

But there was no denying it, especially after the streetlight illuminated his face.

"_John_? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Need a ride?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Thank you, Carolinagirl919

No Beta/Usual Disclaimer

* * *

><p>"<em>Need a ride<em>?" She mimicked his question as she walked over to him. "How did you even know I was here?"

His jaw tensed at her question. The answer should have been evident. What John wanted to know was _why_ she was here. But given the hour and the fact that she had lied to him about her whereabouts, it wasn't hard to guess the reason.

He was furious.

He knew he had no right to be, but he was.

He was furious that she stood before him wearing a dress that caused his cock to strain against his jeans. Furious at the hint of her cleavage, the golden skin he could see from her plunging neckline, and her legs that seemed to go on for days. Furious that she had dressed like this for Ian Murphy - a man who in his opinion didn't deserve to stand in the same room with Joss, fully clothed or otherwise. Though evidence had cleared Ian of being the stalker and killer they'd first thought him to be, Reese still couldn't shake the bad feeling he had about the young businessman. He still felt an almost uncontrollable desire to shoot him, especially now that Carter was exiting his building at one o'clock in the morning.

_Alone._

He hadn't even had the decency to walk her downstairs and wait with her to get a taxi. He balled his fists at his side and looked up at the building, seriously reconsidering his earlier decision to not storm up there.

"You're not answering my question, John."

"I accessed your phone's GPS," he finally responded. "Come on." He grabbed her hand, but she pulled away.

"Unh-uh. I'm going to wait for a cab. I'm not entirely comfortable with you just showing up like this. We talked about setting boundaries before."

"I'm not entirely comfortable with you lying to me, but I guess I've got to live with that, don't I? It's one o'clock in the morning. There are no taxis in sight. I'm not leaving you here alone so someone can murder you on the street. Now come on, Joss."

They faced each other, a silent battle of wills going on between them. He cringed inwardly at how short he was being with her, but jealousy was eating away at him like he couldn't describe. He knew earlier they'd talked about the possibility of something happening between them, but she'd been reluctant to talk further. After the number took precedence and they had to go back to watching her, he'd had to drop the subject.

He had stupidly gone to her house that night in hopes to talk to her anyway. To continue what they had started. Armed with three different bouquets of flowers and take-out food, along with three of her favourite DVD's, he thought they'd either talk about their relationship or spend the night enjoying each other's company. Either scenario would've been a win-win in his eyes. He had no idea it'd turn out this way.

She kissed her teeth, looking from her right to her left. She was probably willing a taxi to appear out of thin air, though she knew it wasn't going to happen. He saw the reluctant slump of her shoulders and her silent defeat as she realized he was right and closed her eyes.

"Fine, you can take me home," she said.

He stood a little straighter, glad that he'd won the first round between them. He knew that tonight, there'd be more than one battle to be fought. She followed him to the car, slid in beside him and slammed the door shut.

As he drove down the street, she was determined not to look at him and instead stared out the window as she laid her head on the head rest. Her dress rode up, its hemline revealing more of her leg. He swallowed as he gripped the gear shift, releasing his frustration through the speed of the engine and pulled into traffic.

"Why'd you lie to me?" he asked, quietly.

"What?"

"Why did you lie to me about where you were, Joss?"

She sighed. "I don't know, John. I'm a grown woman. I'm allowed to have a life and see who I want. I shouldn't have to lie to you about that, should I?"

"Sarcasm," he huffed. "You're trying to be funny."

"I'm simply saying that you following me, tracking my phone's GPS as you put it, just might have something to do with the fact that I didn't want to tell you where I was. Or who I might be with."

Her eyes caught sight of the backseat where the flowers, DVD's and take-out were, and she finally looked in his direction, staring at him in disbelief. He met her gaze for a moment, feeling like an idiot before he turned his eyes back to the road.

_Three bouquets of flowers_, he thought. _Three bouquets of flowers_.

He'd bought roses since they were the universal flower of romance, desire, and passion. He'd bought a dozen to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he desired her, but he thought after a while that maybe it'd scare her off since they'd never had _that_ conversation before.

So he bought tulips too. Red ones, since they signified perfect love. He was in love with her. Had been for a long time. It had everything to do with how she'd changed his life since they first met up until this very moment. She'd brought out the best in him. Made him think sometimes that he could be a good person again. She'd been such a good friend, had brought him back from the brink of death to finally experience the desire to live life once more. Everything about the way she made him feel was…perfect.

But even that seemed too heavy. So he'd bought daisies. They symbolized simplicity, patience, love, and beauty. While he appreciated everything that she was, loved everything about her, thought she was beautiful, he was prepared to wait forever if he had to for her to reciprocate his feelings.

Was he too late now? Did she have feelings for Ian? His mind told him no, but his head exploded at the notion of her having the same type of arrangement with Ian like he had had with Zoe.

He shifted gears again.

"Had plans this evening?" she asked, tilting her head in the direction of the back seat while she looked at him.

He nodded his head. "Had plans with you."

"You sure? Cause that wasn't something I was aware of."

He nodded his head again. "Mmm hmm….I had plans to surprise you," he answered.

Except he was the one who'd ended up being surprised tonight. She shifted on the seat, spreading her legs open a little, and the subtle aroma of her sex filled the air.

_Fuck._

He gripped the gear shift tighter, his knuckles almost turning pale from his grasp. He wanted to shake her, ask her why the hell she'd sleep with Ian. Ask her why she would think to look to him for whatever it was she needed? Emotional satisfaction? Physical satisfaction? Why seek Ian out when he was there?

Her smell moved through his nostrils, and he wanted to taste her. He felt as if her body was beckoning him. Telling him to take it, satisfy it, touch it, give it release. He wanted to slide his tongue over her, have her juices spill over it, swallow it and then bury his face between her legs before he put his cock there. He wanted her so badly. So badly, and he felt like he was losing control. His anger was mingling strongly with his desire for her right now and in the most potent way.

"Well I'm sorry your plans got ruined. Maybe if you'd told me ahead of time…"

Her voice drifted off, and he was glad. He didn't want her to tell him another lie. She'd been avoiding the inevitable confrontation between them. Had been avoiding what was going on between them for months. If she'd known his intentions, she most likely would have blown him off again.

"John, where are you taking me?" she asked, finally noticing that they weren't heading anywhere near Brooklyn.

"We're going to my place."

"Why?"

"Because we need to talk."

"About what?" she asked, sitting up straight.

"About you and me."

She opened her mouth to argue. He could tell she was furious as well, but he shot her a look that made her close her mouth. She was quiet for the rest of the drive, said nothing in the elevator as he held the bags of take-out and flowers in his hands. She walked past him as he opened the door to his loft and stood with her arms folded in front of her. She glared at him as he put the food down on the table, and she picked up the bouquet of roses after he rested the flowers next to it.

"So in addition to you tracking me down at Ian's apartment, following me there and then bringing me here against my will, you want to force me to have a conversation that I told you I didn't want to have yet."

"Why don't you? Give me a reason. Are you scared? Not sure what you feel? Is that why you went looking for Murphy tonight?"

"I didn't go looking for him; he called me."

"Damn it, Joss. You could have…" His anger was boiling over, and his next words came out more harshly than he intended. "_You could have said no!"_

"Why? Why should I have said no?" she bit back.

"Because…because he's not…"

"Not what? Not what, John? Not you?"

"Yes."

Silence stretched between them, awkward and heavy. Despite her anger at his intrusion on such an intimate moment in her life, a look of understanding briefly crossed her face. There it was. Finally out in the open, and he let out a long breath, feeling a tremendous relief at the weight that suddenly lifted off of him. She shifted her feet, moved the bouquet of roses from one hand to the next, and he saw the familiar knot start to form between her brows. His admission had temporarily knocked the wind out of her, but he hadn't stunned her into total silence.

"Speaking of saying no…what about all the times you've said _yes_ to Zoe Morgan?"

He cursed under his breath, blinking.

"No, you don't want to talk about Zoe, do you? She's your…special friend, never more than one phone call away. I'm sure you've heard her screaming the word _yes_ more than a time or two, but here you are, angry about me and Ian when you're free to _walk_ Zoe Morgan home whenever you want."

Joss knew that Zoe meant nothing to him. Reese knew that she was smarter than that. But he couldn't deny that he felt a small glimmer of hope in thinking that her accusations were tinged with a little bit of jealousy. It was all he had to hold on to, and it would mean that deep down seeing him with someone else had hurt her, if only a little bit. She huffed, blinking back the tears that started to form in her eyes and shook her head.

"Ian can give me the things you can't. He can take me out in public and we don't have to hide. He's not wanted by the CIA. He's not legally dead, and he's not some vigilante whose real name I had to find out on my own because he never trusted me enough to tell me himself."

With each word she spat out, she moved closer to him. And though she was trying to project anger as she listed all of the reasons why they shouldn't pursue a relationship, what he saw behind her eyes was the total opposite. She was scared. She was scared that he was getting too close. The woman who had fearlessly taken on a ring of corrupt cops all on her own was scared of what she was feeling for him.

"Is that what you think? That I don't trust you?"

"I think that you're angry." Her fingers curled around the cellophane, unraveling it from around the roses. "No, you're jealous -"

"Of Murphy?" he interrupted.

"Of him. Of Cal. Of any man who got to touch me cause you never could."

She slammed the flowers against his chest, and the stems scattered in different directions. He watched as they hit the floor and felt hot tension creeping all over his skin. Her words stung as she'd intended, bruised him, and he felt like he needed to strike back.

"Did you like it, Joss? Did you like him touching you? Did you like his hands on your body? Did he make you scream? Make you moan? Make you _come_? Make you call out his name too?"

"Yes, I did, John," she said defiantly as he moved closer. "I loved every minute of it."

He turned his head to the side, letting the cold smile that crossed his lips hide the pain her words were inflicting.

"Or did you have to pretend it was someone else to get you off?" He needed the words to be true. Needed it like he needed air to breathe. "Pretend it was someone else kissing you in all the right places, someone else moving inside you, turning you out?"

"Shut up."

"What's the matter, Joss? Am I getting a little too close to the truth?"

"I don't have to listen to this shit, and I don't have to stay here."

She stalked past him, tried to head for the door, but he reached out for her.

His hand on her arm was rough, and Joss was genuinely shocked. He'd never touched her in that way. Never so much as raised a hand to her. He looked down at her, eyes burning, a thunderous expression on his face. She looked at his hand, noting the tension on her arm as his fingers bit into her bare skin.

"Let me go, John," she said, quietly.

He did. Immediately, and she could see the hint of regret already evident in his eyes.

But instead of backing away, instead of giving her room, he cupped her face and kissed her. The touch was so light, so fleeting, so unexpected, but it awakened something that was buried deep within her. Something she had been trying to keep buried for months.

He softly teased her lips open, nipped at them till they parted, and he slid his tongue inside. The feel of it against hers was sweet, electric, and she reached up to cup the back of his head. His hand went around her back, drawing her closer, and she moaned at the feel of his hardness pressed against her mound. His hands moved all over her body, and he continued a sweet exploration of her lips. Softly and roughly, tenderly and brutally, and though his tongue felt so sweet, so damn good, her mind was screaming. She wasn't sure she could do this. Not right now. Not when she'd just been with Ian. But he wouldn't let up.

She roughly pulled away from him and took a step back. Her chest was heaving, she felt breathless and shook her head in an attempt to focus, gain her bearings. She was confused. She was angry with him for showing up like he did, for treating her like he just had. Yet, she wanted him too. Just like he clearly wanted her.

When she looked at him again, his eyes were dark, smoldering, and he swallowed, looking like he could barely contain his desire.

He stood rooted to the spot, finally giving her the space she wanted. But in his eyes she could see that he was waiting, hoping, wanting so badly for her to come to him.

A part of her wanted to run, to leave like she had originally planned to. But a part of her needed him to assuage her anger, even though he was the one who had caused it. Her feet seemed to have a mind of their own, and they were moving in his direction. Her clutch slid to the floor from her hand as she closed the small space between them, and in the next moment she was back in his arms, back in his embrace, and the longing that he'd put behind his first kisses increased a hundred fold as he crashed his lips onto hers once more.

He lifted her from the floor, took her across the room, and suddenly she felt the softness of his bedding at her back. He didn't speak, didn't say another word. He simply let his hands and mouth, and tongue do all the talking. As her legs dangled over the edge of the bed, she felt them on her calves, on her shins, on the tender spot near the back of her knees. She felt his hands move fleetingly over her thighs, the touch of his lips kissing her there, and her stomach started to quiver.

He slipped her shoes from her feet, and started a warm trail with his tongue from her knee to her mid thigh. Before going further, he stopped to gaze at her, and she saw a mixture of hunger, ache, but vulnerability in his eyes. Almost as if he was waiting for her permission to continue. She took the hand that had lingered on her knee and raised it higher up on her thigh; it was all the approval he needed. He helped her sit up for a moment and gently pulled her dress over her head. His fingers ghosted quickly over her nipples, down her stomach, and as she laid back, she felt her panties glide down her legs, felt him part her thighs. When his tongue finally touched her at her core, she loudly cried out.

Her moans echoed in the loft, and she was pinned there on his bed, unable to move, unable to breathe as he buried his face between her legs. One after the next her hands balled into fists, gripping the bedding, trying to hold on as best as she could. It was almost unbearable, almost too much, and she felt warmth start to move all over her, around her, through her. She couldn't stop shaking, couldn't stop trembling. Not just her legs, but her entire body was having the most powerful reaction to him, and she couldn't control it.

"John….."

Finally she was able to make a sound, and his name was drawn out over her tongue in the form of an almost strangled whimper.

His tongue circled her clit, and there it was. She arched her back, burrowed her head into the mattress and let out a moan that reverberated over the walls around them. She was overcome with emotion as pleasure wracked her body and she felt tears slide down the sides of her face. She couldn't seem to catch her breath, felt as if she could barely focus on her surroundings. With her eyes tightly shut she could hear a condom wrapper, the shuffling of clothing and heard John calling her name.

The tears were still coming, her emotions were still high, still raw, and when he entered her, the flow increased. She put her arms around him as he buried himself within her, as he sank his teeth into her neck. His movements weren't hurried. His movements weren't slow, but they were just deep, and long, and powerful enough to fill her almost to bursting. He spread her legs wider as he thrust into her with purpose.

She cried because she knew what he was doing, and she knew why he was doing it. With Ian, she knew what it had been about. It had only been sex, and though she liked him, though she thought he was a great guy, she had never meant for it to go beyond that.

But this.

This was different. This wasn't John just trying to get into her pants. This was John trying to make her a part of his life, and branding her as his in the process. This was him telling her - physically - just how much she meant to him. And his feelings were deep. They were complex, and they were measured in every stroke, every move, and every groan as he plunged himself inside her.

She gritted her teeth as he started to slam into her, and he drew her knees backwards, pressing the backs of her thighs into the mattress. She sank her nails into his back as he groaned in her ear.

She was about to come.

When she reached her peak, it rocked her body violently and much more intensely than the first time. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, but the crashing tide of his thrusts continued. He was not yet done.

Reese kissed Joss' damp cheeks as he moved inside her. He felt her body tremble with orgasm, felt her nails dig into his back as she came and felt a sense of satisfaction that he'd been able to bring her to ecstatic release a second time.

He continued to stroke her, continued to sink himself into her warmth, hoping that every time he plunged deep into the softness of her core that she'd forget about the way Ian might have touched her. She'd forget about any insecurity she had about him and Zoe. Hoping that the only thing she'd think about and remember from this point on was him and him alone. He wanted and needed that so much.

"Joss…"

He murmured her name as he kissed her lips, murmured it as he quickened his already frenetic pace and twisted his hips as he burrowed deep inside her. He felt her tighten on his shaft, felt the snug fit of her walls draining his seed from his body and grunted loudly as he finally came too.

She felt so small next to him as he gathered her in his arms. He also felt an immediate sense of guilt thinking about how they ended up here tonight. He'd said so many ugly things to her, had put her in a terrible position. He would never have acted that way with her otherwise, but the mere thought of her underneath Murphy as she was with him right now had fucked him up so much emotionally he felt compelled to confront her.

He hadn't meant to make her cry, he thought, as he shifted to his side and pulled her close. He kissed her temple, hoping to soothe some of the pain she was feeling, hoping that the damage that was done tonight hadn't gone so far that it was beyond repair.

She sniffled as her head rested on his chest and he bent his head to kiss her. Her lips felt so good, so soft. Her arms around him made him feel at home, made him feel like he was safe and cared for, and it was with annoyed reluctance that he pulled out of her and left her side to go to the bathroom. He cut the light on while he disposed of the condom, washed up in the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. Her lipstick was smeared on his face and neck, and on his shoulder was a small, faint bruise where she must have bit him. He smirked a little, and as the warm water on his hand splashed over his cock, he was reminded of how warm she'd felt inside. Warm, wet, and snug like a glove.

He wanted her again, and when he re-joined her in the bed, he was already semi-hard. She lay back against the pillows with the sheet wrapped around her, and in the dim light of the lamp by the bed, she looked almost ethereal. He pulled the sheet away as she turned to him, and he let the weight of his cock slide over her thigh as he pulled her close to kiss her. He loved the way she moaned as he moved his hand between her legs and slipped his finger inside her. She was still wet, still warm, and he wanted nothing more than to make her tremble again.

So he did.

He lay between her legs while he let his mouth trail over her, teased her and licked her and made her gasp in erotic bliss. He took his time lingering on each nipple, each golden inch of her skin, making sure that every part of her was on fire.

Then he excited her to frenzy, touching her in ways that he'd never touched anyone before. He bit and nipped, and drove her to the heights of want and desperation till she clawed at him to satisfy the desire he created. He slipped another condom on, then he slipped inside her and took her on another path to pleasure and ecstasy.

And he took her again. And again. And somewhere during their lovemaking, his pleasure gave way to a release of his emotions. Somewhere in between a clash of lips and teeth and fingers and legs, he became filled up with the significance of the moment. Joss was in his arms, in his bed and in his life in a way he'd only dreamed of for so long.

"I love you, Joss," he said, as tears began to spill onto his cheeks. "I love you," he said as he buried himself within her. "I love you…I love you…I love you…so much…"

She cupped his face and kissed him while he continued to slide into her roughly and sweetly, as he continued to whisper the words over and over until they were both finally sated. Until they were exhausted and could do nothing more but collapse onto the bed, and even then he couldn't stop saying the words.

He considered it nothing short of a miracle that when he finally closed his eyes, she was still there, asleep in his arms.

* * *

><p>When Reese woke up, the sun was bright outside, and the early morning light cast a warm glow over the bed. He glanced at the time on his cell phone and it was past 7am, the latest he'd slept in a while. He remembered the events of the night, smiled, then frowned when he looked around to see that Joss wasn't in bed beside him. He sat up in a panic, threw the sheet off his naked body and walked around the apartment calling her name. He turned his head sharply, feeling relieved when he heard the sound of her voice coming from the direction of the bathroom.<p>

"I'm still here."

She strolled out, fresh from the shower and fully dressed with her clutch in her hand, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. Her face was a composed mask that he wasn't able to read.

"But not for much longer."

"What?" he grinned, missing the soberness of her tone.

She walked over to him, her heels sounding on the wood floor. The beautiful vision of her in the morning light drew a strong reaction from him; pretty soon he wouldn't be able to hide it. He reached out to put his arms around her, but she put a hand up to stop him.

"Don't come any closer."

"Joss? What's the matter?"

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as if she was thinking of the right words to express her thoughts. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he swallowed hard.

"What you did last night was extremely out of line. It was an invasion of my privacy. The things you said were a disrespect to me as a woman, and the way that you acted…it was such a disrespect to our friendship."

She paused for a moment, and he could see her eyes start to water with tears. She blinked them away furiously before she began again.

"You acted like I was some toy that Ian was playing with, and you were jealous cause he got to play with it before you did. So you had to take it back."

"Joss, that isn't what -"

"Don't you dare stand there and pretend that it's not true. That's what this was all about last night. The things you said, the _way_ you made love to me; it was all just a way for you to take me back from Ian so you could have me all to yourself again. I knew the type of relationship you had with Zoe. While I might have had some misgivings about it, ultimately it was none of my business, and I had yet to come to terms with how I felt about you anyway, so it didn't really matter. And even if I _had_…even if I'd finally decided to explore my feelings for you I would never have done to you what you did to me last night, John. You wouldn't have deserved that, and neither did I."

She shook her head and headed for the door.

"Joss, don't go."

"You know, everything you did last night…coupled with your incessant stalking, you not having any concept of boundaries when it comes to me and my personal life…these were all reasons why I hesitated so much when I thought of moving forward with you. And that's not even including the trust issues you've shown with me."

"I'm sorry," he said, pleading as he moved towards her. "I'm sorry, Joss. Tell me how to fix it. I'll do whatever you want. Just. Don't. Go."

_Not like this_, he thought. He'd been wrong last night. He'd naively thought as she lay in his arms and fallen asleep instead of leaving Ian's condo in the middle of the night that things would be alright this morning. He'd been horribly wrong. And it seemed that she was hurt a thousand times worse as she looked at him in the light of day.

"I know you are. I know you're sorry, John. But I still don't want you to think that because we…made love…that it changes anything. I don't _belong_ to you, just like I don't belong to Ian. I am my own person. And I just…I need time to process what happened between me and you last night and what's between me and Ian."

"Joss, wait. You and Ian…do -"

"No, John," she interrupted. "We never discussed Zoe, so you don't get to ask me that. And if you do love me-"

"_You know that I do_," he said, desperately.

He wished that she would scream or throw something at him like she did last night. Anything else besides this calm, soft voice of hers would do right now. It was tearing him up inside. And deep down she knew he was right. Everything she was saying was true.

"If you love me and if you want to fix this, you'll give me the space that I'm asking for."

She didn't wait for him to respond. She simply turned and left. He watched her go, feeling helpless, feeling alone, wanting to go after her, but knowing it was best to grant her request for time and space.

He stared at the door after she left, wondering why it was that she was the only woman in his life that he couldn't stay away from, couldn't walk away from. He'd been able to re-enlist in the Army and break things off with Jessica, had stayed away from her for almost ten years after, but staying away from Joss was like asking him to rip his own heart out of his chest. It was damn near impossible for him to do.

He finally returned to the bed, sat down with his head in his hands and realized that the next few days, weeks, or however long Joss needed were going to be the longest moments of his life. The whole situation had ended up in shambles, just like the roses that were still scattered on the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Special thanks to FangirlU and Carolinagirl919. Ya'll are heaven sent.

No Beta, I don't own Person of Interest or any of its characters.

* * *

><p>"<em>I love you, Joss…I love you….I love you so much…"<em>

"Mom, you okay?"

Carter turned her head abruptly, looking at Taylor. She hadn't known just when or for how long he'd been standing next to her.

"What?"

"You've been stirring that cup of coffee for a full minute. Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Of course I am, baby boy," she replied, raising the cup to her mouth for a drink.

She slipped the spoon into the sink and headed down the hallway to go to her bedroom. Behind her she heard Taylor saying that he was leaving for school, and she absently answered him, not even sure of her reply.

The coffee tasted like gravel in her mouth, and she grimaced as she rested the mug on top of the nightstand. She lay back on the bed, fully clothed in her uniform and closed her eyes. Sitting in a patrol car with Laskey was the last place she wanted to be. Especially when she kept hearing John's words echo in her mind over and over again. Three days later and she couldn't seem to escape them no matter how she tried.

She was still angry at him, although her annoyance at the situation had dulled significantly. She had asked him for space and was grateful that he'd given it, but his confession, their night together, made it feel that even though he wasn't physically near her, his presence was still there anyway. A part of her hated it, but a part of her realized that with John, this is the way it would always be. He would always be there in one way or the next. Before they'd had sex, even before they'd both admitted that something else beyond their reluctant friendship was there, he'd told her she'd never be alone. It felt like he was keeping his promise. Because even though things between them were a colossal mess at the moment, his touch, his presence, still lingered on her like a second skin. And she couldn't shake him.

Why couldn't he have waited? Why couldn't he have waited till she was ready? All she had needed was time, and he forced them into a situation that had gotten out of control. She supposed it was inevitable. It had been a long time coming, but when the time did come, she hadn't wanted their first time to be that way. She couldn't deny wanting him, couldn't deny that her desire for him had burned just underneath the surface for a while. But she hadn't wanted to explore it until she was ready for all the emotional ties that being with John physically would bring.

Entering into a relationship with him was no easy thing. She'd thought about the pros and cons, things she'd never know, things they could never have or do as a couple. She'd never be able to explain how they met, would always have to lie to her friends and family. Hell, they might never get to meet him anyway. How would she explain the late hours to her mom or the fact that she might not see him for days because of his work with Finch? They couldn't go out, be seen in public since he was a wanted man. There were so many disadvantages to being with him.

But he was also very kind. He was sweet, and he was emotionally available to her, more so than any other man she'd been with. He'd never been guarded with her; in fact he seemed vulnerable at times, while she was the one who'd held up a wall. They'd floundered after Rikers, both reeling from the aftermath of his old partner coming back from the dead and having come so close to the brink of death. They had slowly been finding their way back to each other again, and she knew, like her, he was realizing that he wanted more. He just didn't know how to get there.

_Their night together hadn't been the way to do it_, she thought, and let out a frustrated sigh.

It was out of character for him. It had been out of character for both of them. When they'd faced each other on the street outside Ian's building she could sense his anger, his frustration, and though his jealousy of Ian was practically seeping through his pores, there was something else underneath his rage. Something else was driving him that night, and he hadn't been able to suppress it.

_He'd bought flowers_, she remembered. And food, and her favourite movies. She knew what he wanted. He'd wanted to have _the talk_. About them. If she had known he was coming over….would she still have gone out with Ian? Would she have slept with him?

She couldn't answer that. She hadn't been able to think, and she was tired of trying to. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe sitting in a patrol car with Laskey _was_ where she needed to be. Any distraction from the never ending questions in her mind was welcome at the moment.

* * *

><p>Reese grunted as the blow landed to his face and momentarily stepped back. He shook his head and put his hands back up, balling them into fists. He stared at Shaw, a wide grin splitting her mouth as she stared back at him in satisfaction. They'd been sparring for twenty minutes so far, the silence of the machine leaving them with nothing to do but find ways to pass the time. Normally when he had down time, he'd try to find Carter. He'd either go to her place and wait for her to get home, or he'd call her to see where or how she was. He hadn't been able to do either, not since she'd asked for space. It was killing him to honour her request but he was doing it nonetheless. And so in order to work out some of the tension that was churning on the inside of him, he had let Shaw land the last four blows. She was good, he thought, as he blocked the fist that came close to landing solidly against his chest. But his annoyance at the conundrum he'd created between him and Carter started to boil over, and when he hit Shaw in her torso, she fell in a heap to the ground.<p>

He stood back as she lay on her back, the mats of the makeshift gym they'd put together in one of the rooms of the library catching her fall. When she looked at him before getting up, she had a new determination in her eyes. Sweat dripped down his face, and he quickly flicked it away. He suppressed the smirk that came to his lips, ready to deal with the rage that was gathering within her. He couldn't deal with restraint at the moment. Restraint wouldn't expel the turmoil he felt inside, and when she came at him with a barrage of moves, using her fists, her legs, and her strength behind them, he welcomed it. They traded kicks, punches, knees and elbows until they were both exhausted, a little bruised, but drained of the pent up anger and frustration that being idle had brought.

Shaw threw her jacket on, and after downing two small bottles of water from the fridge, she left the library. He figured she'd find some trouble of her own to get into. Reese however was still restless, and so he took Bear to the park for a run and let the air fill his lungs while he tried to outrun the feelings of hopelessness and helplessness that he couldn't shake. With every step he could feel her, taste her, smell her. His mind remembered every inch of her skin, every touch of her lips, how she felt inside when he told her he loved her.

He pushed harder, ran faster, but he could still feel her underneath him, could still see her tangled in his sheets, still hear her voice when she called out his name. His legs felt weak as he tried to push them even harder, but soon they gave way and he fell to the ground. Bear ran towards him as he sat on the grass before falling to his back. The canine's tongue lapped at his face, an attempt to give the comfort he sensed his master needed. His chest felt like it was exploding, burning as he breathed hard through his mouth.

"Joss," he groaned, trying to catch his breath.

_I did this_, he thought. He'd fucked things up in a big way. This was worse than giving up Moretti's location to Elias, worse than leaving her alone to dig up and move Stills' body. This was something he wasn't sure he knew how to fix.

But he had to find a way.

* * *

><p>Carter stared at the bouquet of roses and the envelope with her name on it after she rested it on the island in her kitchen. At the end of her shift, she'd stopped by the Eighth to drop off the keys to the patrol car, and they'd been waiting for her. She ignored the curious glances she got from fellow officers as she walked outside with the heavy vase in her hand and headed home. Now that they sat atop the granite, tall and lovely, she finally reached for the envelope.<p>

After tearing it open she pulled the card out and saw that the flowers were from Ian. She smiled as she read it, then groaned, putting a hand over her face.

_Thinking of you_, it said. _From Ian._

It was a simple gesture, she guessed. But given their night together, it had the potential to get…very complicated. _Or not_, she hoped as she spun the vase around looking at the crimson blooms. They were gorgeous with a mixture of Baby's Breath sprinkled throughout the arrangement, but looking at them only reminded her of the ones John had bought for her the other night. All three of them.

She took her phone out of her pocket and dialed Ian's number. She released her hair from the confines of her hair tie and let it fall to her shoulders while she made her way to her bedroom. The phone rang twice before he picked up.

"Joss," he said, the playfulness already in his voice.

"Ian. I thought I'd call and thank you for the flowers," she said, smiling. "They are beautiful."

"I'm glad you like them. Did you read the card?"

"I did, yeah."

"I'll have you know it took me a good ten minutes to write that card."

She laughed. "No, it didn't."

"I swear. I went through several drafts before I could find the right words to say."

"Come on, now. 'Thinking of you' is not a sentiment that requires too much thought to put together."

"See, now that's where you're wrong. And if you noticed, I waited a full three days before I made any contact cause I didn't want to scare you off or look too desperate. I had to come up with something simple, but also genuine, and 'thinking of you' seemed like the way to go. Since you know… I _have _been thinking of you. Quite a lot actually over the last couple days."

"Ian…"

"And I'm not giving you another line, Joss. I'm not saying it just to get you into my bed again."

"Although you would like to get me in bed again," she offered.

Complicated. _That's what it was going to be_, she thought.

"Well, yes. You got me there," he said, laughing. "I mean it was an amazing night. But besides all that, I'd like to see you again. How does tonight sound? I'm leaving town tomorrow evening for a few days, and I want to see you before I go. You can come over to my place. I can fix dinner..."

"No, I can't. Tonight's not good for me."

"You working tonight?"

"No, I have a date. With my son."

"Ah, I understand. Alex is on a school trip this week with his class. He's only gonna be gone for three days, but I miss the little guy already."

"Where'd they go?" she asked, smiling at the affectionate way he spoke of his son.

"An educational trip to D.C., they're going to the Smithsonian and to the Einstein Planetarium for this presentation on space and constellations. They're showing it in IMAX, and Alex is really excited about it too. He's really big on science and astronomy. He wants a telescope for his birthday this year. I've been looking at different models trying to decide which…I'm sorry. I can go on and on when I start talking about him."

"No, it's fine. I don't mind at all. I'm the same way sometimes when I talk about Taylor, too."

"And we wouldn't be this close if it weren't for you, Joss. In fact, I'd never have even known he existed."

"Ian…"

"Joss…listen, I really like you. We can get to know each other, we don't have to rush. We can take things as slowly as you want. I have a business meeting in the morning, you could come along with me and we'll have lunch afterwards."

"How am I supposed to come along with you at your business meeting?" she asked, confused.

"You'll be my silent partner. Just observe, listen to the sales pitch. This guy is looking for an investor, someone to finance this new coffee house in Jersey, and he has to convince me that this idea of his is worth the sizeable chunk he wants me to contribute. He's not looking for a definite answer today, so you don't have to worry about giving any feedback. He just wants to pique my interest. Afterwards, we can have lunch at _The Liberty_."

_The Liberty_ was a really nice restaurant in Midtown, expensive too, known for its décor, great menu, sometimes famous patrons. She'd always heard about it, but on a cop's salary she could never go.

"I don't know, Ian."

"No expectations, no pressure, just lunch, Joss, and I get to enjoy your company before I have to hop on a plane for three hours. It'll be fun. What do you say?"

* * *

><p>THE NEXT DAY<p>

"I was able to force pair his phone, but couldn't get past security in his office building. Plus from what I've learned, it'll be just as hard to get into his house too. His security code is ten digits long and it's randomized every half hour."

Reese looked up as Shaw walked into the library and shrugged out of her coat. She threw it on the coat rack near the window and bent down to pet Bear.

"We finally met someone as paranoid as you, Finch," Reese said, staring at Harold.

The machine had finally given them a number. Arthur Beckett, a fifty-something corporate raider and philanthropist. He bought and sold companies much like pieces on a Monopoly board and had amassed a fortune over the years. But even though his business life was public knowledge, his private life was the complete opposite. His wife had died over eight years ago, and he'd remained a widower since. They'd been trying to ascertain the possible threat to him all morning with little success. After feeling like he was going stir crazy for days, Reese was happy to finally have something else to focus on.

"If his paranoia matches mine as you say, Mr. Reese, it'll be difficult for us to get as close to Mr. Beckett as we need to," Finch said.

"Well as it turns out," Shaw said, with a grin. "After I cloned his phone I realized we share a mutual friend. Or at least Reese does."

"What do you mean?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Zoe Morgan. He has a meeting with her tomorrow. You might want to talk to your _special friend_ and see if she can get you access to his house. Or his office at least."

"Beckett would only hire Ms. Morgan if he has something to hide," Finch said.

"Or needed to make someone go away."

"Whatever that is, you need to find out, Mr. Reese. Ms. Shaw and I will follow what little leads we have here."

* * *

><p><em>The Liberty<em> turned out to be everything Carter expected and at the same time so much more. The restaurant inside was spacious. In the main dining hall where she and Ian were seated, there were tables for intimate parties of two, larger tables to accommodate family dinners and booths that offered seclusion and privacy if you wanted. Beyond the main dining hall there were two additional event areas that were rented out for parties of fifty and above, and there was a staircase near the restaurant entrance that led to a second floor where you could enjoy your meal outside on a balcony with the city below in plain view. The deep mahogany wood floors were a rich contrast to the cream walls and maple wood accents. Tall trees with their winding trunks and branches climbed towards the ceiling. The ambience created was elegant, stylish, but it also made Joss feel as if she was on a mini vacation in a different place, somewhere away from the excited pulse and energetic vibe that New York always had.

The food was exquisite, and Ian, in an attempt to impress her, ordered one delicious dish after the other until she begged him to stop. He fed her tiramisu, and she flushed as she felt the effects of the white wine she'd had with lunch. She was having a good time. So far there'd been no talk of a relationship, and for that she was grateful. He'd picked her up in a hired car mid morning and his eyes had lit up at the sight of her in the simple camel coloured knee length wrap dress that she wore with a cropped black jacket. He'd hugged her and he pressed a light kiss to her cheek, but besides that he'd been nothing but a gentleman. He was back to his playful and fun self after having transformed into a shrewd and intellectual businessman at his meeting over an hour and a half earlier. She'd initially thought that she might have been bored during it, but she found the proposal quite interesting though it wasn't without its flaws.

"So, what did you think of Miller?" Ian asked, referring to the young entrepreneur they'd met with before coming here. She settled into the back of her seat and folded her hands before she spoke.

"Truthfully?" she asked, looking up.

"Definitely, yes," he responded.

"Well, for a coffee shop, he picked the wrong location."

"I don't know, Joss. A lot of new businesses have been moving into Jersey and they've done pretty well so far."

"They have, but what investors like yourself and business owners don't realize is that the people in those neighbourhoods you're moving into don't appreciate how you change the character of the district. You cause the property values to increase, rent is higher, and it becomes harder for them to start their own ventures in their own community."

"And here we have the argument against gentrification," he said, nodding, though not so sold on her explanation.

"Exactly. And that particular building he's talking about? I know it. I know it like the back of my hand. It used to be owned by this old Cuban couple. Think their name was….Castillo. It was a little coffee shop, started it years ago. They fell on some hard times; bank took it away from them. Couple months later a new one opened. It was nice, upscale, 'bougie', and while it had its appeal, the local community wasn't having it. They literally set up protests and demonstrations for months. Customers got tired of it and eventually they had to close. It's like that place is sacred ground. Nothing that opens there ever stays in business for long. Two other people tried after that coffee shop and failed. That's probably why the rent and selling price is so cheap."

He looked at her with a new appreciation in his eyes while she sipped on her glass of wine. "It'd be a dead investment, Ian. I wouldn't back it if it was me."

She smiled, realizing that for the first time in months she hadn't thought about HR, hadn't thought about helping John with one of his cases. And it was the first time in days that she hadn't thought about John and their night together. Ian slid his hand across the table, reaching for hers and he held it.

"I knew it was a great idea to ask you to come along. I'll devote some considerable thought to your advice."

"You should. I'm not just a cop. I'm a lawyer too, remember?"

She grinned while he smiled at her, feeling suddenly relaxed, suddenly open to Ian and the possibility of dating him. He'd been sweet yet again; he'd said they could take things slow. He was willing to do whatever she wanted. Maybe being with him wasn't such a bad idea after all. She took another sip of wine, and her eyes travelled around the room. The place was packed, soft music was coming from the speakers, but suddenly all the chatter in the room died and everyone seemed to disappear when she spotted Reese entering the restaurant.

With Zoe on his arm.

She froze, the glass still pressed to her lips and she felt as if someone pulled the rug out from underneath her.

_Why was he here with her?_ she wondered. Zoe's arm possessively looped through John's as they made their way to their table. The flat of her other hand pressed to his chest for a minute as he pulled out a chair for her.

"_I love you, Joss….I love you so much…."_

His words hit her hard like a freight train, and she felt the irrational urge to walk over to his table and throw the contents of her champagne glass in his face. He'd just told her a few days ago that he loved her. Had made love to her like….

_Stop it_, she thought, reminding herself that it was she who'd asked for space. It'd been her who'd asked him to keep his distance for a while. Still, it hurt to see Zoe next to him, and she started to think of him touching the fixer the same way he'd touched and made love to her. She gritted her teeth and looked away, trying to focus on what Ian was saying.

"The menu he's proposing isn't a good one either. I mean even if people decide not to protest the opening, how can he convince them to eat there when he's serving…."

She stopped mid-sentence as she saw Zoe lean her head towards John's, saw what seemed to be an intimate smile, her finger trailing on John's face. She took a deep breath and stood up abruptly.

"Ian, excuse me for a moment."

"Everything alright?" he asked, concerned at her expression.

"Yeah," she said, mustering up a smile. "I just want to…go check my makeup."

She reached for her clutch at the table, and almost as if he'd sensed her, John picked that exact moment to look in her direction. He instantly sat up in his chair, moving away from Zoe, and his eyes passed between her and Ian. The thunderous look in his eyes was unmistakable even from this distance, and Joss broke his gaze, heading for the restroom.

* * *

><p>Before Zoe could see the direction of his stare, John quickly looked away, but not before he swore under his breath when he saw just who Carter was with.<p>

The waiter was at their table now, and while Zoe looked over the drink menu, he balled his hand into a fist where it rested on his thigh. He just couldn't seem to get rid of Ian Murphy. And he couldn't seem to stay away from Joss. He assumed after their night together she wouldn't be interested in seeing him again. But here she was out to lunch with him, and he started to wonder if this had been their first time together since he'd seen her last? Had she slept with Ian again? Had she decided to go out with him? The very idea of it made him angry, desperate, scared. He had to talk to her. Had to look into her eyes and see how she really felt.

She'd gone toward the doors at the rear of the restaurant, presumably to head for the bathroom, and he pushed his chair out. When Zoe looked up at him, he gave a slanted smile at the puzzled look on her face.

"I need to call Shaw. Order for me, will you?"

"Sure," she answered, as he walked away.

His long strides quickly ate up the distance between him and Joss. His shoes sounded on the wood floors. He knew by now she could hear him behind her, and when they entered the corridor and were out of view of the main hall, he called out her name.

"Joss."

She spun round, looking annoyed, and when she went to speak he kissed her. He kissed her because he knew she'd seen him with Zoe and she was confused. He kissed her because he knew she would tell him to stay away from her, and he couldn't handle that. He kissed her because damn it, he missed her, and he still wanted her. She pushed him away, though he could see her annoyance had been tempered only a little.

"We need to talk," he said, and put a hand on her back, ushering her toward the entrance of one of the empty dining rooms. Behind them, he heard the voice of one of the staff members.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but you're not allowed in there. It's for private parties only."

He turned around impatiently and stared at the young man who looked all of twenty years old. He was thin and tall with brown hair neatly swept over his forehead. He shrunk back as he looked at Reese, seemed scared almost as he looked into his eyes. Reese reached into his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollar bill. He thrust it in the kid's direction before he put his hand on Carter's back again, ushering her inside the room ahead of him.

"We won't need it for long."

He pulled Joss inside and closed the door behind him, leaning on it, making sure she couldn't leave. She pulled her arm away, noting his gesture. She was livid, he thought, but so was he.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Is this is what you plan to do from now on? Knock me over the head and drag me around like some caveman when you see me with someone else?"

"What _I'm_ doing? I would ask you the same thing. You want to explain just exactly what you're doing here with Murphy?"

"No, I don't," she bit back. "I don't have to explain anything to you, and I'm not about to stand here while you question me again. You have no right to interrogate me. None. Especially not when you just walked in here with Zoe Morgan on your arm."

"There's the door. If you want to go, then go. Leave."

He moved out of her way, his eyes daring her to walk past him. He'd never acted like this in his life. Definitely not with her. He couldn't understand what came over him. He couldn't understand it, and he couldn't control it no matter how hard he tried.

The silence between them was thick, and she was quiet as she stared back at him. They were on the sidewalk in front of Ian's building all over again, a battle of wills going on once more. He'd won that round and the one after that at his loft, but the morning after, he'd lost. Big time. He wondered which one of them would be victorious now and who'd end up losing.

She stared at the door, then back at him, and for a moment, he thought she'd stay. But she started to walk past him and when she reached for the doorknob, he blocked her exit and pulled her away from the door.

"I thought you said I was free to go."

"I did. Like you told me you needed space. But you're here with Ian. Why? You planning on letting him fuck you again, Joss?" She didn't answer him, and her silent defiance made him wonder if they'd already slept together again. "Did you let him fuck you? Answer me. "

Carter looked down at his hand on her arm and felt a strong sense of déjà vu as his grip tightened. She couldn't contain her anger, not just at him but at herself. If she'd just left his loft before they'd made love she wouldn't be in this position. She might have been angry with him for following her over to Ian's that night, but she wouldn't be this confused about her feelings for him as she was right now if she had just left and gone home.

He was ruthless, his tone deadly. And it hurt just as much as it did the first time he'd spoken to her this way. She hated it, and she wanted to hurt him the same way he was hurting her at this very moment.

"Why the hell are you here with Zoe, John? Huh? Get your hand off me." She pulled her arm out of his grasp, and instead of backing away, she stood right in front of him, stared into his eyes, her anger evident. "You told me you loved me the other night. You told me that you loved me, and you cried when you made love to me. Did Zoe wipe away your tears when you fucked her too?"

She watched his expression change for a split second, like he was thinking about that night all over again, how special it had been. She used that brief moment to twist the knife even deeper.

"You know what your problem is? You want to have your cake and eat it too. You want me in your bed while you cry about your feelings, and she gets to be seen in public with you - a pretty ornament on your arm. You're nothing but a hypocrite John, and I have to get back to Ian."

She moved past him, intentionally bumping his shoulder, but the contact only ratcheted up the tension between them. Her emotions were so raw, so strong. She was still feeling that invisible string pulling her in his direction. She needed to put distance between them. And fast.

"So that's it, then?" he asked, turning around. "He's your choice? You're choosing him?"

Her shoulders stiffened, no doubt she'd thought she'd won this round too. She'd thought that it was over, but Reese still had one more move to make. She spun round to look at him, raising her chin in the air. Defiant and strong, and unmoving till the end. Or so she thought.

She looked so beautiful, he thought, but then again she always was. Whether she was dressed in her work clothes or relaxing at home in shorts and a tee shirt, she was always beautiful. Right now, she was stunning. The wrap dress she wore, the soft fabric and cut, looked amazing on her body, and the pumps on her feet made her legs look incredibly long. He thought about how he'd touched them, kissed them. How they'd felt around his back.

She brushed a lock of hair out of her face, tucked the dark curl behind her ears. She wore it up today, leaving a few strands out to tumble over her brow. It reminded him of how she looked the morning after their night together, fresh faced and soft with her hair in a ponytail as she'd walked toward him.

"You made the choice for both of us, John. Go on, you don't want to keep your _wife_ waiting."

He closed the distance between them quickly, pressed his lips against hers before she could protest. He poured all of his anger into his kiss, moved his mouth over hers and let her feel the extent of his frustration and fear. He moved his hand in the back of her neck, kissing her deeply as a surprised moan rumbled in her throat. He cupped both her cheeks as he pried her lips open and once they parted, he slid his tongue inside and let it explore and revel in the softness that he'd missed.

She'd missed it too. She'd missed the way he'd taken her, the way he'd taken his time on her and the way he'd taken care of her. He felt her pulse quicken, felt her arms go around his back and kissed her harder. It was like heaven, he thought. It was so sweet, so passionate, and when she moved her hands underneath his jacket, he felt like his body was on fire.

She whimpered as he nipped at her mouth, as he licked and tasted and soothed. She hadn't been with Ian again. If she had, she wouldn't have been able to respond to him like this. Not like this. Her fingers gripped at the lapels of his jacket, and he held onto her as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of her mouth.

He didn't move, and neither did she. His head remained bent; their lips remained close together while they both gasped for air. Her body was soft in his arms, and he wanted her so badly, but this was the wrong place and the wrong time.

He finally let her go, finally stepped away and she looked at him with a desire that equally matched his.

"Go," he said, hoarsely. "Ian's waiting for you. Right?"

He didn't wait for an answer, but he felt her gaze on his back as he walked out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Thanks to fangirlU.

No beta/I do not own Person of Interest or any of its characters.

* * *

><p><em>She'd been gone a long time<em>. _A really long time_, Ian thought, as he checked his watch.

It'd been a full ten minutes since she'd excused herself to go to the ladies' room. His gaze returned to the back of the main dining hall and the door she'd disappeared through, waiting for her to walk through it. He was starting to get worried. Was she sick? Did something happen? Was something wrong?

His alarm escalated when instead of Joss emerging from the door, another familiar face appeared instead. It was the man who'd questioned him along with Joss the night she'd first had dinner at his place. His name was John. It was a name he would always remember. That and the fact that he'd been especially tense that night. He'd acted like he'd been doing his damnedest to control his anger as he stood next to Joss. It made Ian wonder just why he was so pissed at him when this was the first time they'd ever met. Sure Joss said that they'd suspected he might be a stalker, serial killer, but John seemed overly jealous, possessive even, like he resented that Joss had spent time with him, however brief it had been.

Whether something was between this man and Joss, Ian was never sure. Joss had said that she was single, and he never felt that she was the type who'd lie or play games. But before John went back to his table, he shot a look in Ian's direction, and Ian couldn't help but think that if the restaurant wasn't full of people, John would be coming over, but not to say hello. Maybe whatever it was between the two of them ran deeper than both of them had cared to admit to themselves and to each other.

It was another five minutes before Joss reappeared, and when she sat down she seemed flushed. She'd freshened up her makeup, lipstick, not one hair was out of place, but there was a different energy radiating from her. It felt as if she had tried her best to temper it, but during the rest of their lunch she was…distracted, to say the least. The playful, flirtatious side of her had all but disappeared despite her attempts to act normal.

Something had happened while she was gone, and he was sure that John had something to do with it.

* * *

><p>Carter was relieved when her neighbourhood finally came into view. She sat in the back seat of Ian's car while he held her hand, both of them awkwardly silent as they rounded the corner. After he dropped her off he planned to go straight to the airport and board a Texas bound flight where he'd be for the next few days. The business meeting and lunch date had started out really well, but after what had happened between her and John, it had quickly gone downhill. He was the only thing she could think of right now.<p>

"This is me," she said, as the driver pulled up to her front door. "Thank you, Ian. I had a really good time."

"So did I. And I wanna see you when I get back, despite me being curious about what changed between the time you left for the ladies' room and when you got back. It wouldn't have anything to do with that guy in a suit would it?"

She saw the knowing look in his eyes and swallowed. Ian might not be sure about what was going on, but he was far from dumb. He wanted answers, but she wasn't ready to talk about it. How could she? She still hadn't figured it out just yet, either. The conversation he wanted to have would take a lot of time. Neither of them had it right now since he was leaving town.

"Ian," she started, softly. "You're a great guy, and I -"

"Tell you what, Joss," he interrupted, squeezing her hand. "Don't make a decision yet. It was a great date wasn't it?"

"It was." She smiled and nodded. "It was."

He got out of the car and walked around the other side to help her out. He walked the short distance to the curb with her and kissed her before giving her a hug.

"I'll see you soon."

She watched the car disappear down the street before she turned away and opened her front door. He said he didn't want her to make a decision about them, but who was she kidding? Her decision had already been made. She really did like Ian, had enjoyed his company immensely. But as safe as she felt around him, as normal as a life with him would be, he didn't have her heart, not even a quarter of it.

John did.

But so many ugly things had been said and done between them in such a short space of time. She wondered how they could ever even go back to being the friends that they were before all the craziness started.

She walked upstairs to the second floor, walked the length of the hallway to her bedroom and then slipped off her shoes as she walked inside. All she could think about was him. Even as Ian had kissed her goodbye, her thoughts had been consumed with _him_.

Not just the way they'd made love, but the moments they'd shared way before then.

How he'd hand her a cup of coffee while they were on a stakeout. Him being a smartass when he'd answer a question she posed to him. The way he'd asked her if he'd gotten too close. How'd he saved Taylor's life when he'd been taken. There were so many moments they'd shared, things they'd gone through together. And she'd been so scared to face the fact that he meant the world to her. He was important to her. Not just as a friend, but something more that she just hadn't wanted to face.

But she had to, now. She finally, really had to.

* * *

><p><em>Three Days Later<em>

Carter smiled as Finch came into view. His regular gait was a little hurried today as Bear walked beside him. The canine was normally well behaved, but tonight he was acting as if it'd been a long time since he'd been outside and wanted to run instead of walk. Every now and again he yanked on the leash that Finch held tightly within his grasp.

"Thank you for meeting me this late, Detective." He stood beside her, wrapped up in his burgundy wool coat and a thick scarf wrapped around his neck, and she tilted her head in acknowledgment. "Detective Fusco was tied up in Brooklyn tonight, and we really needed that bit of information on Arthur Beckett's late wife."

She fished the small envelope out of her pocket and handed it to him. Working a beat offered her little access to the type of information Finch and Reese required. She'd had to call in a favour to get it.

"It's alright. I'm happy to help. Did you find out what or who the threat may be yet?"

"We have a theory. And while this information may save his life, revelation of who this person is, may very well cast a dark shadow on Mr. Beckett if it ever comes to light."

"Well you're better at keeping secrets than anybody I know, so if you and John really wanted this information to remain hidden, I'm sure you'll find a way."

He smiled briefly but looked abruptly at Bear who yanked at his leash again. "Bear," he said, before muttering something sternly in Dutch to the animal. Whatever it was that he'd said made him sit and keep still for the next few minutes. Carter was impressed.

"What's going on with him?"

"Well, they say that animals are very sensitive to the emotions of the families they belong to. They're like children in that regard. He's been very restless lately, especially when Mr. Reese is around."

She swallowed at the mention of John's name. "How is he?" she asked, without looking at him. She felt him turn to look at her, but she wouldn't return his stare.

She and Finch never discussed her and John's friendship or anything that went beyond it. She guessed that Finch knew a lot that went on between every one of the people in his small circle. He simply kept his observations to himself. Most of the time anyway. He didn't have to mention that Bear was restless around Reese. But she assumed that he felt whatever might be wrong with John right now had a connection in some way to her and their lack of interaction in the last week. He'd answered her question really before she'd even asked it.

"He misses you."

He tucked the envelope she'd given him into the inner pocket of his coat and turned to leave.

"You should get out of the cold, Detective. The temperature's supposed to drop even lower tonight."

* * *

><p>Finch had been right. It <em>had<em> gotten colder, and by the time Carter got home she was freezing. She got inside quickly and heard noise coming from the kitchen. The lights were on. As far as she knew, Taylor wasn't going to be home this evening; he was at her mother's. She removed her gun from her holster, held it in front of her as she slowly walked towards the kitchen.

Sitting at her breakfast table, twirling an empty tumbler in his hand, was John. She noted the half empty bottle of scotch next to him and lowered her weapon. It felt as if it had been an eternity since he'd been here last. She was used to him 'breaking in' periodically and making himself at home while he waited for her to get there. She probably shouldn't be surprised that he'd stumbled inside tonight, but after recent events, she was.

"John, what are you - what happened to you?" she asked, looking at the blood trail that ran down the side of his face.

"What?" he asked, looking confused.

"I guess it's happened so many times you don't even realize it. You're bleeding. Let me look at it." She put the gun on the table and lightly touched the wound at his temple. "Are you in any pain?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," he replied, raggedly. She smelled the scotch on his breath and shook her head.

"How much have you had?

"It's the second bottle, I guess."

"John…" she groaned, looking at him. He looked absolutely pitiful. His eyes were hooded and glassy, his lips dry. He needed taking care of.

"Come on. Let me get you cleaned up." She helped him get up from the chair, and put her arm around his waist. Watch your step," she said, as they got to the staircase.

They entered her bedroom together, and she led him to her bathroom. He was obedient as she told him to sit on the toilet, and she fetched the small first aid kit from underneath the sink. She stood between his legs as she dabbed at the wound with alcohol and mopped away the blood. She knew it must have stung a little, but he didn't even wince. Not once. He looked up at her almost as if he was transfixed, and she was very aware of him despite doing everything she could not to meet his eyes. She put some antibiotic cream on it and stepped backwards.

"It doesn't look like you'll need stitches. But for such a tiny cut, it sure did make a mess."

"That's what small things do. Start off harmless enough, then they snowball into something out of control."

She finally looked at him, and his eyes had softened, gained some of the alertness they normally had. They both knew he was talking about them and how his decision to follow her that night had changed everything.

"I'll be right back." She left the room for a moment, disappeared and came back with a small glass of water. She handed it to him, along with some aspirin she got out of the medicine cabinet.

"Here, take these. They'll help with the headache you're most likely going to have in the morning."

"Thanks."

He swallowed them both, then handed her the glass. She took it from him and went back to the kitchen and put it in the sink. She stood there for a moment and leaned on the counter, realizing that her hand was shaking. She felt an irrational sense of worry mixed with relief that he was okay. She knew John had skills, knew that he could handle himself. But he wasn't invincible. All she could think about was something happening to him before they'd had a chance to resolve their issues. She'd never be able to forgive herself if their last conversation had been the two of them bickering over Ian and Zoe.

When she got back to her room, he was still in the bathroom, still sitting there, waiting for her.

"You want to tell me what happened?"

"Following up on a lead on our latest case."

She folded her arms in front of her as she stood opposite him. "Arthur Beckett."

"Yeah. We think we found the person who's posing a threat to him. Ran into one of his friends tonight. He got away."

She nodded. "Did you see his face?"

"No."

Reese lied. He _had_ seen his face. But that wasn't important right now. What _was_ important was that he and Joss were sharing the same space for the first time in a while and they weren't going for each other's throats. In the soft light of her bathroom, he couldn't help thinking of how much he missed her. How much he wanted and needed her and how badly he wanted to hold her right now. He stood up, dwarfing her in the little bathroom, and he noticed how visibly affected she was by how close he was standing. She moved away and went to stand at the bathroom door.

"It's past midnight, John. Why'd you come here? After the restaurant…"

"Yes, it _is_ late. And it took me getting knocked upside the head and more than a bottle of booze to realize that I was going to lose you."

His voice sounded hoarse and she looked away, but he had to say what he really felt before he chickened out.

"I'm sorry, Joss. It was just a little thing that I wanted to do. And it snowballed into something that I couldn't control. I'm sorry I ever put my hands on you. I promise I will never do that again. I'm sorry that I followed you to Ian's. I'm sorry that I took you to my place when I told you that I'd take you home. I'm sorry for the…disgusting things I said to you. More than once. I'm sorry for treating you the way that I did."

Tears ran down his face and he wiped them away impatiently. She nodded her head and looked at him again. He could see that she was about to cry too. He was putting himself out there again, and while he could see she accepted his words, he needed something in return. Needed to hear how she felt about him too.

"I'm sorry too, John. I'm sorry for ridiculing you at the restaurant, making fun of your feelings. I'm sorry for shutting you out and for not talking to you. I'm sorry for ignoring the fact that you told me you loved me. I'm sorry for spending the night with you and then leaving you the next morning. I'm sorry for freaking out about Zoe when I was the one that told you that I needed space."

By the time she was done, there were tears in her eyes as well.

"You were jealous of Zoe?"

"Yes. I was. Don't make me say it."

He couldn't help but chuckle a little, seeing the roundness of her cheeks.

"Like I was jealous of Ian."

She chuckled too, and he was glad that there was finally some levity to the situation.

"So jealous I couldn't see straight."

"So jealous you knocked me over the head and dragged me by my hair to your loft."

She was thinking about it, just like he was. He could see it in her eyes; the memories of that night were haunting her too.

"Anyway. It's late, and I should go." He made himself say the words, made himself move past her when what he really wanted was to stay.

"You're not driving are you?"

He didn't answer, but his shrug was enough to confirm that he was.

"Are you trying to kill yourself? Or someone else? You…can't believe I'm saying this. You can stay here. On the couch," she said quickly. "I'll just get a blanket and a pillow for you to -"

She moved toward the linen closet in her room, but he gently held her hand, stopping her. He reached up to cup the side of her face and thumbed her cheek. She closed her eyes at his touch and he bent his forehead towards hers. He lightly grazed her lips, felt her release a heated breath, and she put her hand over his.

"John, we still haven't - I can't."

The fact that she was letting him stay tonight and not kicking him out was nothing short of a miracle. He didn't want to push his luck and pressure her into having sex with him and in the process push her away again. He needed to tread lightly, and even though he felt the effects of all the scotch he'd drunk he knew he needed to think clearly right now.

He pressed a quick kiss to her mouth again before he raised his head.

"Then we won't."

He was happy to see the worried knot between her brows disappear, and she got him two pillows and two blankets from the closet. He followed her silently back down the stairs and watched as she pulled out the sofa bed.

"I can do it, Joss," he said, walking toward her.

"I know you can, John." She continued to spread out the bed sheets and pillows, getting it ready for him. It seemed like busy work, something else to do and focus on besides looking at or talking to him.

"Thank you," he said when she was done.

"Try and get some sleep. If you need anything…"

She shrugged, looking around.

"I'll let you know."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Joss."

* * *

><p>Reese had been lying underneath the blankets for about an hour. By now he should be asleep. The scotch should have already done its job. Instead he was wide awake on his back, listening to the hum of the street light just outside the window. He'd been here to Joss' place more than a few times, but he'd never spent the night. He heard the familiar sounds, smelled the faint aroma of jasmine in the air, and upstairs he heard the sound of the TV on in her bedroom.<p>

She'd probably fallen asleep with it on; he'd heard the drone of the same news anchor's voice for the last half hour at least. She'd let him stay. He knew he was taking a chance coming here tonight. She could have kicked him out on his ass, and she would've been right to do so after how he'd acted, but she let him stay.

He turned his head toward the staircase as he heard the TV shut off and her bedroom door open. He sat up as he heard her footsteps coming down the hall and down the steps. She came through the archway of the living room dressed in pajamas and a tank top, her hair on her shoulders.

"Everything okay?" he asked, and she nodded.

"I thought you'd be knocked out by now," she answered, softly.

"So did I. Why aren't you asleep?"

She shrugged. "It's cold."

She moved closer to the bed, and he didn't think twice. He turned the blanket down and moved over.

"Come here," he said, wanting nothing more than to have her beside him. But she hesitated, looking between him and the empty spot he'd just vacated.

"Why don't you come upstairs?" - She toyed with the drawstrings of her pajamas. - "I think my bed would be much more comfortable."

Following her up the stairs and into her bedroom was more sobering than a gallon of hot coffee. He didn't take for granted what letting him into her bed really meant at this moment, and he was happy that she trusted him enough to invite him to sleep with her. She shut the door behind them and he pulled the covers down to let her get in bed first.

"You remembered which side of the bed I like to sleep on?" she asked, as he slid in beside her.

"Of course I did."

He gathered her to chest, felt her slip her arm around him and slide her thigh in between his. Her feet were cold as they touched his legs, but he didn't care. She felt like home. Nothing less.

"Warmer now?" he asked, rubbing her back.

She reached up to touch his face and kissed him. A soft touch that rocked him to his core and filled his heart.

"Much warmer," she murmured against his lips. "Much warmer."


End file.
